Cinderoylla
by QueenStrata
Summary: In which Roy makes a fantastic Cinderella, and Ed is a very awkward Prince Charming.


A/N: And Roy/Ed week day 2: the stroke of midnight. Also we might as well consider this to be the first in my series of Roy/Ed fairy tale AUs. Not that…I have a whole bunch of them in the planning stages or anything…. Yes, I am _even more_ of a mess than you already imagined.

Warnings: Nothing out of the ordinary considering the fairy tale in question? Also, Ed.

Disclaimer: I own, uh, four really cute cats. But not anything in this fic.

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 _Cinderoylla_

The problem was that the spell ended at midnight, and he was swiftly running out of time to catch either of the princes' eyes. It would have been easier if he were a woman—that's what the ball was thrown for after all, to find a pair of brides and ensure an unbroken royal line—but it was too late to ask for _that_ awkward little change. And approaching either of them was out of the question, but not because of the multitude of knights guarding them. It was the princes who would honor the people they chose, and to speak with them otherwise was to invite a quick death.

But how could a man hope to attract their attention? A few hopeful fops were making spectacles of themselves in the corner, and Prince Edward seemed to be entertained by them, but Roy didn't have it in him to act so flamboyantly. Better, perhaps, to blend in with the elegant women dancing at the front of the floor.

In fact, if he's not mistaken, Prince Alphonse seemed to have a somewhat shy eye set on the Lady Hawkeye. Perfect. Roy had known Riza Hawkeye for years, and she wouldn't mind if he cut in on her current clumsy partner.

"I didn't think you even owned a suit," Riza said evenly once they'd started moving.

"I don't," Roy admitted. "I do apparently have a fairy godfather, though."

Her eyebrows had always spoken volumes, and this particular slant to them screamed doubt, with a faint accusation of lying and a very firm request not to be told the truth.

"I'm being honest!" Roy protested. "He had a magic wand and he was singing and everything. Then he showed me pictures of his daughter on the way here. It was rather terrifying, to be honest."

"Was the punch drugged?" Riza asked, her face serene and voice perfectly demure. "I think you must have been hallucinating."

The _one time_ Roy was completely honest with the story of how he got into a social event far above his station, and nobody would believe him. Just his luck.

"Perhaps you should just assume I stole it off someone who wasn't treating one of the ladies with respect," Roy said. "Then we can both be happy with how I obtained it."

Their teasing was cut off abruptly by somebody clearing their throat, and they stopped dancing with a start. Prince Edward stood next to them, smiling with cold eyes. "May I interrupt?" he asked curtly, then, with a brief nod to Riza, he grabbed Roy by the shoulder and pulled him into a dance.

Roy was actually rather proud of himself for not stumbling even once. The other man might be a head shorter than him, but he seemed to be built entirely out of muscle and steel.

"You were watching us," the prince said, anger simmering under his voice like a banked fire waiting for kindling. "So don't fucking pretend you didn't notice Al looking at her."

Roy hadn't expected him to speak so vulgarly, or for him to be so enthrallingly passionate, and he stared back at his new dance partner in stunned incomprehension for a bare moment. Then he smiled slowly and ducked his head in a little bit closer, not enough to emphasize the height difference but enough to make their stance seem more intimate.

"Lady Hawkeye and I are old friends," he said in his lowest voice, firmly keeping eye contact. Prince Edward's eyes dilated satisfyingly, and his breath hitched slightly. "I was uncertain how to catch your attention, My Lord, and merely thought I would enjoy a moment of her time instead. I assure you I had no intention of stealing her away from Prince Alphonse, assuming I even could."

He pulled the prince in a little bit closer to murmur in his ear, "Besides, I don't appear to have been the only one watching. Was I?"

Prince Edward bared his teeth. "Don't flatter yourself."

When the song ended, Roy politely tried to step back, but didn't get very far. "Did I say you could leave?" the prince snarled, tightening his grip and pulling Roy in even closer. Roy was practically beside himself in glee when they kept dancing and bickering like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he scarcely noticed the night passing by.

What he did notice was the way Prince Edward seemed to be unable to look away from him at all, let alone step back from their too-intimate position. And he blushed so easily, turning bright red at the slightest provocation and only making it worse by getting angry about it.

Roy himself was driven to distraction by the sight of Prince Edward chewing nervously on his bottom lip. He wanted to kiss the man so badly he found himself licking his lips in anticipation.

"You're doing this on _purpose_ ," Prince Edward snarled, his voice slightly hoarse.

The next thing Roy knew, he was being dragged out of the ballroom by the hand, and the few knights who bothered to try following were yelled back. On a small, dark balcony he would never have been able to find on his own, the prince shoved him up against a wall and tried to shove his tongue down his throat.

Roy's brain shut down entirely in surprise. Fortunately, his body was more than capable of taking up the slack, and he wrapped his arms around Edward's waist to press their bodies together. The kiss he slowly turned into something that was more finesse than desperation, kept it slow and deep and perfect. Prince Edward let him take the lead, let his body melt into Roy's own and clung to Roy's clothes like he was drowning.

Slowly, gently, Roy turned them around so Edward's back was against the railing. He carefully encouraged the prince's legs to part so Roy could settle between them, could run both hands firmly down his back and his butt and give him a hint of just what Roy wanted to do to him.

"Fuck," Edward said shakily, but didn't pull back. "I don't know—I've never let anyone—"

"I swear I would never hurt you," Roy murmured sincerely. "I couldn't even consider it. You are so far beyond beautiful, I don't even have words..."

"Shut up," Edward said, blushing again, and Roy couldn't resist another long kiss. Edward wrapped a leg around his waist and when they broke for air again he gasped, "Your name. Give me your name."

Roy took a deep breath to respond, but froze in horror when he heard the sound of the bell tolling out the hour. "No!" he gasped instead. "Not yet, dammit!"

"What?" Edward asked blankly, dropping his leg when Roy didn't immediately respond. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," Roy said, stealing one last brief kiss. "I'm so, so sorry. I have to leave."

"You _what_?" The snarl in the prince's voice was dangerous, and not just because Roy knew he was stronger than he appeared. It made Roy want to give in and stay, forget who he really was underneath all of the magical clothes and give the prince both his name and a night he would never forget. But the fact of the matter was that he didn't deserve a single night with a prince and he never had.

"I'm sorry," he said again, and yanked himself away. Something on his jacket tore off in Edward's grip, but he didn't have a moment left to care about it. Without looking back even once, he turned and ran from the castle with the sound of the prince's screaming pursuit in his ears.

xxxxx

A month later and Roy still couldn't get that first song out of his head. The girls and Madame Christmas seemed mostly amused whenever they caught him humming it while he completed his tasks around the inn, but it wasn't their opinions that concerned him. It was Kimblee's suspicious eyes that always drew him up short. He didn't think there was any way the other man could possibly have been at the ball as well—there simply wasn't any reason to invite anyone from their household—but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he somehow _knew_.

Roy was in the attic the day the royal procession came to the brothel, replacing a broken pane of glass in the fancy half-window. It was stiflingly hot, and dust covered the surface of everything that had been stored there over the years. Roy was dripping with sweat, utterly filthy, and feeling more than a little bit of horror as he watched none other than Prince Edward step down from a carriage and stride purposely for the front door.

He shoved the glass into place with more force than was wise. He'd have to check on it later, but for now he quickly cleaned up his tools and bolted for the door. If he moved quickly enough, he might be able to clean off the worst of the dust before he had to make an appearance.

The door was locked.

Roy, who generally tried to keep his language clean so he wouldn't slip in front of somebody important, cursed Kimblee and every generation of his family that had come before him. The man had been trying for years to get rid of Roy—including sneaky murder attempts that he could easily deny—but this one was just childish. Roy hadn't made a secret of what he was doing, and somebody would surely be looking for him soon. He might be a bit dehydrated by the time they found him, but he wouldn't be _dead_.

Unfortunately, he clearly didn't have the time to wait for someone to get him now. Not only would they be distracted by the prince's visit, but Roy wasn't going to let Edward leave without seeing him. He was going to have to get out, and he was going to have to do it quick. Luckily for him, there was more than one way out of the attic.

The broken table had been in there as long as anyone could remember, and most of the household didn't pay any attention to it. Except for Roy, who had been over every inch of the building to ensure he always had an escape from his stepfather. He ducked underneath it and brushed away some dust with his hands until he found a copper ring. The trapdoor creaked unhappily as he pulled it open.

With a grimace of distaste, he stepped slowly down into the dark stairway underneath. The door above him hadn't been designed to remain open, so he lowered it carefully as he descended. When it closed with a soft thunk, he was left in a darkness so complete he was effectively blind.

Nothing for it. He kept a hand pressed against either side of the wall, hoping nothing would decide to bite him, and took the steep stairs as quickly and carefully as he could. It took far longer than he would like, and he began to imagine ways he could get back at Kimblee for this. There wasn't much he could do, since his aunt would lose everything if he died, but surely a few injuries weren't out of the question. A broken leg here, a fractured rib there….

If Edward was gone when he found his way out, he might reconsider murder, though.

The stairway ended and curved into a short passage underground. Then he was ascending, and he came out into a tiny, disused building hidden in the woods behind the inn. Shielding his eyes from the too-bright sunlight, he stumbled through the woods, across the small backyard, and through the kitchen doors.

"Shit!" the cook said as he stalked over to the sink. "What happened to you, chief?"

Roy leveled Havoc with a glare as he grabbed a glass that looked clean. "Don't ask," he grumbled while it filled with water. "Are the visitors still here?"

"What, the prince and his entourage?" Havoc asked blankly. "Yeah, and he's annoying the hell out of Kimblee. All I heard was something about a ball before one of them threw a wrench at me. A wrench!" He held up the object in question as if to prove it existed.

"Maybe he was flirting," Roy suggested dryly. He drank the glass of water as a dumbfounded look appeared on Havoc's face. After a brief consideration of his previous activities, he stuck both of his hands in the stream from the faucet and splashed some water over his face, then ran wet hands through his hair as well. "Do you have a towel?"

"Flirting?" Havoc asked dumbly, his eyes distant as he stared at the wrench. "Do you really think so? She was _beautiful_."

Roy should have known better than to suggest anything of the sort. With a sigh, he grabbed the first towel he spotted and wiped down his face and neck, then flung it over Havoc's head. He didn't move an inch. Lovely; they were never going to get dinner tonight.

They could worry about that later. Taking a deep breath, he straightened out his clothes as much as possible, and stepped out of the kitchen. Visitors were always taken to the parlor, where they would normally be greeted with a handful of women to choose from. Today all of the women were absent, and the room held instead a handful of knights, a lovely young blonde girl that must be Havoc's wrench-thrower, Madame Christmas, Kimblee, and, of course, Prince Edward.

Kimblee appeared to be unusually angry, his face red and fists clenched as he towered over Edward. The girl was holding another wrench with clear threat. The Madame, in true form, looked like she was enjoying a joke that she was waiting for everybody else to get.

Roy stepped into the room and cleared his throat.

Everyone immediately turned to look at him. He distantly took note of Kimblee's too-surprised face, but he only had eyes for Edward. Who was looking at him with confusion, as if he couldn't quite recognize Roy when he wasn't wearing ballroom clothes. Heart sinking, Roy bowed respectfully low, but when he straightened up he couldn't help catching Edward's eyes and smiling.

"Your Highness," he said softly. "My sincerest apologies for not being appropriately attired for your visit. I'm afraid I was otherwise engaged when I saw your retinue approaching and I had some…difficulty returning home."

Edward's eyes widened as Roy spoke, one hand clenching into a fist. "You," he said faintly. "You _smarmy asshole_."

Roy couldn't help the grin that crawled onto his face. Edward responded by throwing whatever he'd been holding in his hand at Roy, and it bounced off his chest. It clunked loudly as it landed on the floor, and Roy almost gasped when he recognized the old watch he'd thought he'd lost. He snatched it up before anyone else could move, courtesy be damned, and popped it open with some trepidation.

"Who were they?" Edward asked.

Roy tore his gaze away from the pictures inside the watch to give him a wary look. "My parents," he said. "I lost them when I was young, and these are the only pictures I have of them."

" _That's_ what you were after?" Kimblee snarled. "Who puts pictures inside of a watch? Nobody would have gotten that!"

"Yeah, that's sort of the _point_ ," Edward said, giving him a disparaging glare. "I wasn't asking you a fucking riddle, I was looking for—for the guy from the ball." He turned the glare on Roy, hands on his hips. "Are you actually going to give me your name this time, or am I just going to have to call you Asshole?"

"Roy Mustang," Roy said slowly, not entirely certain what was happening.

"Okay, Roy, so here's the thing. I wasn't exactly subtle when I dragged you out of the ballroom." Edward looked faintly embarrassed, a soft blush staining his cheeks, but didn't remove his gaze from Roy's own. "So, uh, guess what that means? You're coming back to the castle with me."

Roy stared. "Are you aware that you're in a brothel?" he asked.

Edward's blush spread to light his entire face bright red. "Look, the _whole point_ of the ball was that me and Al would settle down, and then my dumb ass went and danced with you all night, okay? Shut the fuck up and be happy!"

"Well," Roy said, trying not to show how completely thrown off he was, "if you insist."

Edward made a sound that was something like a cross between a snarl and a laugh. He stomped across the parlor, grabbed the collar of Roy's utterly revolting shirt, and yanked him down into a determined kiss. Roy wanted to pull him in close again, but, mindful of Edward's pristine clothing, settled for cupping the prince's face in his hands.

"Fuck," Edward said faintly when they parted. "I forgot how good you were at that. There's absolutely no way I'm leaving you here."

"You expect me to go to the castle looking like this?" Roy asked, gesturing towards his clothes.

Edward looked down at them, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Fine, I can wait long enough for you to get cleaned up." He grinned. "Do you need some help?"

"That would be delightful."

As he guided Ed back to his rooms, he distinctly heard an unfamiliar girl's voice say, "Oh, great, _neither_ of them have any shame. I already regret helping."

Roy laughed. He had no doubt that many more people would be voicing similar complaints soon enough, but that was okay. He and Ed would just have to counter them by successfully living happily ever after.


End file.
